


Frilly Cake

by StalineBC



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Frilly cake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 15:18:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4105642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StalineBC/pseuds/StalineBC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poorly written fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frilly Cake

  
The plaster dries slower here in the mointains, he noticed. The Keep is drafty, crumbling in places, not ideal for his current mission, but Solas sees it as it was. Towers rising into the clouds, stone bastions and immaculate gardens offering protection, healing herbs and sanctuary. A haven for whom ever found it.  
“And it will be so, once more.” he says to himself, his voice echoing into the emptiness.  
“What will be what?”  
He turns around to see the Inquisitior standing in the doorway. Her hair is disheveled and armor in disarray, blood crusted. A blond eyebrow quirked up slightly, and she smiled, taking in his just as unkempt, if less gory, appearance.  
“My apologies, lethallan, I did not hear your approach.” He laid down his pigments, and went to the wash basin.  
“No apology necessary. What were you saying?”  
“Skyhold. It will be as it once was before. With you here, that is.”  
“Oh. Meaning?”  
“You will rebuild it, take care of it, make it yours, as you have made those around you.”  
“Oh.” She said again, and watched as he cleaned his hands. He turned to look at her, and she couldn’t help but smile. He had a smudge of paint on his cheek and a droplet on his ear, near the point.  
“Now, was there something you needed?” The seriousness of his voice made her laugh, and she went to basin, taking up the damp cloth.  
He waited while Ellana cleaned him with her gentle and deft fingers. When she was done he took them in his own and kissed the tips, never breaking his gaze from her blue eyes, feeling a little triumph as her cheeks and ears flamed. His lips found her wrist, the pulse strong and fast under the skin. She pulled away slightly.  
“Solas, wait…”  
“What is it, ma vhenan?”  
“I have guts in my hair.”  
“Ah. Yes, it seems you do. My apologies again. I did not mean to get so carried away.”  
“No, don’t be sorry! Just, maybe wait until I have less Venatori on me?”  
“Of course. But why didn’t you clean up at camp?”  
“I… just needed to come back, as soon as possible. To be here, with you.” She kissed him then, soft and slow and he wraped his arms around her, heedless of the mess.  
 "Chuckles, Inquisitor.“ Varric coughs from behind them. His grin is infuriating, but she sighs and greets him cordially  
"Yes, Varric?”  
“Sorry to interrupt, but Josephine mentioned something about judging Servis… Servais… whatever that asshole’s name is. She kinda wants you, like now.”  
“Fine, but I need to clean up first.”  
They kissed one more time then he let her go reluctantly, watched as she backed up with eyes on him, and bumped into his desk. She squeaked and apologized, picking up the papers she knocked over and then went with the dwarf. Solas chuckled and turned back to his work. A little while later, he went to the desk to get another pigment powder, when he noticed a little box with a tiny, neat bow and tag. It read ‘Ma Serannas’.  
He gingerly untied it, and was surprised and touched by what was inside.  
A little frilly cake.  
He closed the box, and went to find his Inquisitor.


End file.
